


Phantom Pain

by Caffinated_Story



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, I am filling the blanks with angst, until we get any official info on how Genji's cyborg body works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:38:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8241535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffinated_Story/pseuds/Caffinated_Story
Summary: It's hard to move on when you've lost so much. Even harder when you don't know what the remaining pieces are close to breaking you down even more.





	

Genji isn't sure if you're supposed to hear the machine parts of your body whirring and whizzing about – Dr. Ziegler did say it was a “silent model” - but Genji is certain he can hear gears turning, springs winding and unwinding.  
Bolts moving and metal grinding against metal.

Every time he moves – it feels wrong and makes a sound he can only describe as 'grating'.  
It doesn't hurt.  
Other things hurt.  
But they're not really there to actually hurt anyway, so he tries to ignore that.  
Push the pain away because he knows there's nothing but metal where his limbs once were.

Still, his mind is fighting a battle between wanting his real body back and accepting the new one.  
The new limbs made of synthetics and metal.  
The new body that keeps him alive, for better or worse.

Some days it feels like his real hands are twisted uncomfortably behind his back, while his new limbs are perfectly still by his side.

It helps to move, jump a little or run.  
Anything to keep his mind occupied on something else than his old body.  
It's keep going or stand still and Genji has quickly discovered that staying still has never been his strong suit. 

It feels best when he's on the move. A little more natural.

The faster the better – less time to focus on the sounds he's so certain he hears.

That aside, Genji finds that he's far more silent to others than he is to himself.

A power he has on more than one occasion abused.

No one else in Overwatch seems to think he's different.  
But almost no one truly knew him before his 'death'.

Dr. Ziegler is kind and caring, she listens and tries her best to fix the little 'faults' Genji keeps insisting he has with his body.  
She takes her time and never dismisses his worries as simply being “only his imagination”, even if Genji himself is starting to think it is probably that.  
Just imagination.

Dr. Ziegler can only do so much when it's his own mind that's broken.

Sometimes his own vision blurs over and he has to rely on the computer aspect of his body to guide him in the right direction.  
Lights and sounds whirring and whizzing to point him in the right direction.

He never truly sleeps any more.  
Even with his real eyes closed he 'sees' through his visor.  
Images always pushed into his mind.

He's not human.

He can't be human.

He can barely remember what being human is like.

Of course; he's aware he used to have a body – a fully working one with everything intact and in it's rightful place; his mind won't let him ever forget that.  
But he doesn't need food or drink any more, the hunger his brain tells him he should feel just does not line up with what his body actually requires to function any more.

He's woken up from 'sleep' with a crushing feeling in his chest – as if the dragons are dancing on his grave, bending and breaking his ribs all over again.  
But there are no ribs to break any more.  
And his heart beats and beats with assistance from numerous machines that are sturdier than anything else Genji has ever met.

If he moves and doesn't think about it, it's usually okay.  
Albeit Genji has – to his horror – sometimes taken a leap too soon and ended up crashing down into some poor bystanders car.

His biggest enemy is movement when he thinks too much.  
Like when he feels his phantom limbs resting on his phantom chest and tries to move them, for then to only flail wildly with his mechanical limbs and knock something down or over.  
Winston has banned him several times from his labs due to this.

And then to add salt to his no longer existing wounds; Genji doesn't know is he wants to live.

He should have died.  
His brother was close – so close – to succeeding.  
And sometimes Genji wishes he had.

It's not fair that he has to live with the constant pains and burning sensations from body parts that are no longer there.  
It's not fair he has to mourn a humanity he never thought he'd ever loose.

And in the middle of it all; his brother probably doesn't even feel regret.

That hurts the most.

Genji knows Overwatch keeps tabs on Hanzo and the rest of their clan.  
He knows he could easily find him.  
If he wanted too.

And that...

That he isn't sure of.

Genji isn't sure if it's phantom pains or if it's his heart actually aching with regret and pain – but it hurts none the less.

Some days are particularly bad.  
Some days fill him with so much dread he barely manages to form coherent sentences.

He avoids mirrors on days like that.  
Refuses to see himself as what he has become and what he now is.  
A human mind in a robotic body.  
A soul in a machine.

A little bit of both and nothing of something whole. 

People's praise of his skill fall on deaf ears.

Sometimes Genji turns of the mechanism that allow his hearing to still work properly and just allows the words to float on by.  
Praise used to be so fun.  
It used to mean so much.

Now he's not sure what it means to him any more.  
Empty words for an empty body.

Life soldiers on, but Genji no longer really knows if it's a life he thinks is worth living.

Sometimes he thinks he feels a pull towards another place.  
A gentle tug at his heart in a direction he can't quite place.

“You thinkin' about leaving?” Jesse asks him one day, the two of them sitting on the rooftops as Jesse smokes.

“No,” Genji lies.

“You look like you're thinkin' about leavin',” Jesse sighs.

“I am not...” Genji replies, but he feels the need to move again.  
Move far, far away.

“The south is pretty nice,” Jesse hums and lights up another cigarette, undoubtedly stolen from Gabriel.

“Perhaps,” Genji replies, mind slowly drifting towards the idea that perhaps leaving would be a good thing to do.

“You can always come back,” Jesse reminds him, and Genji is thankful someone seems to understand his need to run far away. “Overwatch will probably still be here when you come back.”

“Perhaps...” Genji doesn't want to think too much about how long he can live. How long he can wander for.

Regardless, the temptation is stronger than his loyalty to Overwatch.

He needs time alone.

Time to contemplate his life.

His half-life.

“I might not return,” he whispers.

“If you do I hope it's with a smile on your face,” Jesse grins. “You suit smiles more than you suit frowns.”

Genji ponders asking Jesse how he can even know he frowns when his mask covers his face, but he decides to let it go.  
Jesse is better at reading him than he'd like to admit.

“I will... try,” the last word comes out as a pained promise. 

“All I ask,” Jesse chuckles. “Won't demand nothin' else.”

“Yeah,” Genji sighs and stares out over the rooftops. “I will keep it in mind.”

He doesn't want to tell Jesse he doesn't feel like returning to anywhere.  
Least of all a place where he feels his mind clings too much to the past.

But he doesn't want to disappoint his friend.

Empty promises are better for the ones he leaves behind.


End file.
